Mirror|rorriM
by Ruaki
Summary: Naruto ficlet. Yaoi-ish--so that means there's some citrus peeps! ?/?.. well, let's just say that this is rather PWP and there's a mirror involved.. >D


**Title**: Mirror|rorriM  
**Author name**: Ruaki [http://valhalla.morethanart.org]  
**Author email**: ruakichan@aol.com  
**Category**: Seriously deranged stuff.  
**Keywords**: a mirror and some kink ^^;  
**Spoilers**: None  
**Disclaimer**: I WISH!!!  
**Author's Note**: Er... I have no idea. Really. What the HELL was I thinking? Um.. it's pretty bad. And uh.. citrus-y (that means some sexual stuff going on). ^^;; Yeah. Thank goodness it's short. ^^; 

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The surface was cold, foreign, unyielding. Smooth and tarnished, dully gleaming from the slanted rays that slid through the closed shades. The image in the reflection was scowling, then smiling, then scowling, then blew a raspberry. The image was so dull, so boring. Short, vulpine, with a sharp, teethy grin and unruly yellow hair. Nothing outstanding, nothing worth notice. The image stared with large pale eyes, trying to find something unique and attractive. 

The reflection smiled then, fingers folding together to form a seal. Nothing was worthy about _this_ image.. but.. 

This new one.. 

Dark eyes blinked, and the image reached forward, touching the smooth surface. This one was loved. Wanted, cherished and admired by everyone. Beautiful and perfect. The image crossed its eyes and pulled its lips wide, before smirking at itself. _He_ would never make that kind of face--because it was ugly. 

Is this how _he_ felt? The image contemplated itself, staring and half-turning to better view its new look. It seemed similar to _him_... but not just like. The eyes.. yes, the eyes were different. _His_ had no warmth. Distant like the moon. 

The image closed its eyes. Now is this how _he_ felt? Curiously, the image tapped fingers alongside a cheek, wondering at the soft skin. It shivered--it was nice, this contact. 

Slowly, the image trailed its hand down, slipping beneath the collar of its turtleneck, wrapping caressing digits about its throat. It laughed once, adruptly, and it could feel its syrinx vibrating. _His_ laugh? It never could recall _him_ laughing. 

It said its name, using _his_ voice... but said it low, luscious, passionate. The reflection shivered again, raising its other hand to its mouth. _He_ had such nice lips, unlike its own. Bitter, angry, the image sank its teeth into the tender skin, eyes flaring open to stare at itself, noting with satisfaction the beading red blood. 

The image smirked at itself, tongue swiping away the fluid. _He_ tasted salty, coppery. Not so different from its own taste. Why was _he_ special, then? It closed its eyes. The eyes that was staring at it was not _his_... 

The hand about its neck tightened once. It cried its name again in that other's voice, a tone of pleading, before seizing its shirt in both hands and rendering it asunder. 

The chill of the room danced over the exposed skin, a delightful sensation that the image spent a few moments admiring. It, however, could not delay any longer, eager to touch the new frontier laid bare to it, splaying hands across the flat of its stomach, curling nails against sensitive flesh. Exhaling silently, it ran a digit around the rim of a bellybutton, slowly swirling outward with a butterfly touch. 

_He_ was so beautiful... tall, slender, and magnificently built. An involuntary groan escaped its throat, lightly dragging fingers up the muscles of its abdomen, around the curves of the pectorals, along the the line of the collarbone. Wonderful, sublime.. The image pinched an erect nipple and moaned, fire burning in the veins of its body. It longed for a stronger, more forceful feel, something to flay this soft skin into shreds muscle and tissue. It wanted to reduce this body into a whimpering fool and make that voice beg for mercy. _Beg._

Pressing its wrist to those bleeding lips, it kissed the sensitive skin there, swiping its tongue up into the palm and then around each of the five appendages, suckling hard. The other hand moved absently, pinching and scraping white skin into red. The image smiled around its thumb, eyes fluttering slightly but not opening, as a naughty idea crossed its mind. 

Releasing its thumb, its mouth continued to leave a slick trail along its arm, tongue dipping into the crook of its elbow, even as it arched back, the meandering hand gliding low, teasing about its navel before sliding over the rough cloth of its shorts and whispering over its crotch. 

_His_ voice purred. 

Susurrations of no meaningful content floated about as it stepped forward and pressed itself against its cool reflection, fingers stroking the flat surface, fingers meeting with itself. The image kissed the reflection open-mouthed, seeking domination. Spots of red marred the finish. 

One hand pressed up against the surface to touch the reflection. The other continued its explorations southward and after much fumbling, removed the last of the barriers the source of its ardor. 

This wasn't about _him_ anymore. It was about everything--rivalry, hate, desire, jealousy, envy, admiration. The image wanted those dark eyes to soften with sunlight, the image wanted those tender lips to curve in a smile, the image damn well wanted _him_ to say its name in a friendly manner, without some insult attached. 

The fire burned, the image's hand curling around the flames as if it could put it out with its own grip. 

The cold surface wasn't so cold anymore. The moon.. didn't seem so far away. It wanted to see those eyes gaze at it with acceptance. It looked. 

The image choked, hands jerking away from surface and erection, heart thudding against its ribcage. The reflection stared at itself in fright. Not _him_ but itself. The illusion had been banished in its startlement at seeing those dark eyes. Now only blue eyes stared, empty. 

Whimpering and red-faced with tears shame, the image wrapped tight arms about its bare torso as it sank to the floor, unable to tear its eyes from the pathetic, sorry person that faced it. This pitiful specimen that wasn't wanted or acknowledged. 

With a cry of rage, Naruto scrabbled for the nearest object, hurtling it with all his might at the image in the mirror. 

It shattered into a million rays of dying light. Supernova. 

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A/N: Never again will I do anything remotely citrus. O.o 


End file.
